Untouchable
by AlyceJL
Summary: Lost and lonely, Remus Lupin decided long ago to build a wall around his heart and keep others away. Less than human and horrified with himself, he breaks his promise. - Songfic to Natalie Merchant's "My Skin". Complete.
1. The Beast Within Me

Untouchable.

I: The Beast Within Me.

I am a monster.

Oh, you might not think so when you first meet me, I suppose, but spend some time with me and you'll see. This calm, brave, maybe even caring, man that you see before you is just a shell. Please, don't let it fool you. It only hides the creature I hold within. The creature that takes over every month, safe to no one - not even myself.

It would be wise for you to just stay away, I think. You don't want to get mixed up with the likes of me. The other people around me, well, they tell me that I am still human, that I am their friend, and a valuable member of the Order. They're lying - only I know the truth. Only I can feel the wolf itching beneath my skin as the moon waxes, can feel him pacing, growling, wanting to hunt. And the pain as he comes out, as my hands - these human hands! - change, grow claws, and my face lengthens, and my spine becomes huge, ripping my clothes, and...

Yes. It would be wise for you to just stay away. 


	2. My Skin

Untouchable. II: My Skin.

All was quiet at number twelve, Grimmauld Place. Mrs Black's portrait hung silent, the curtains around her frame drawn. Kreecher wandered the house, muttering darkly about the inhabitants of his mistress' house. Nearly all the members of the Order were absent for the day, except for one. Remus Lupin, who now sat in the parlour, a forgotten book in his lap, staring at his hands with a look resembling despair mingled with horror.  
He often found himself doing this, and the feeling might strike him at any moment during the day, during any kind of activity. He could be helping Molly by chopping vegetables when the house was particularly busy, or helping her fold the children's laundry, or he could be bringing the razor blade to his face while shaving. He could be sorting the mail that had arrived by owl, or he might be chasing Kreecher across the upstairs landing when the vile house elf had stolen his registration tags. He could be reading a book, as he was now.

No matter the situation, it was always the same. He would catch sight of his hands and suddenly a terrible feeling would descend over him like a shroud, and he would find himself just staring, and thinking. Right now, he was thinking about how his nails would thicken and lengthen, how his hands would lengthen into parodies of a human's, sprouting fur as they went. And how if his hands were changing, the rest of him was - his shoulders hunching, his spine growing, his face lenghtening into a snout, nose twitching. Ripping his clothes, fur growing everywhere, and the ability to think humanely slipping away as the wolf pushed himself to the front.

It horrified him to think that he could lose his calm and controlled human nature and become a monster that would kill anyone - or worse - without a second's thought. All his life since the bite he had fought so hard to stay human. Yet every month as the moon became full he would feel his humanity fade. No matter how hard he tried, he became a monster. Remus snorted in contempt as he thought about the people who would call themselves his friends. They would always insist to him that he was still human. If he were human, why was it law for him to wear the tags the Registry of Magical Creatures had issued him? 'Dog tags for a werewolf,' he thought to himself. 'How ironic.'

The dog tags weren't all, but possibly worse than all the Ministry laws was the prejudice he received. He was treated as a beast, cast out and ignored by so, so many. Even those he had called friend, for all their promises and insistence that 'it didn't matter', had thrown him from their lives after finding out his secret, leaving him to wander, alone. Who would want to be close to a werewolf? 'How long has it been?', he began to wonder to himself, then stopped, his hands balling into fists as he fought back the sudden lump rising in his throat. A moment later though and the thought pushed itself to the front of his mind again with a sneering voice: 'How long has it been since you've been close to a woman, Lupin?' He sighed, the shroud around his body tightening.

It had been forever: no woman had ever wanted to be involved with him any more than as a friend - and friends were rare enough - for a long, long time. It had been so long that he had nearly forgotten the pain of it all. But that pain hadn't faded before he had built a wall around his heart, before he had shut himself off to any hopes of women taking an interest in him. Now, however, he did not feel the pang of the loneliness, except for times like this. Times where he sat and couldn't help wallow in his problems, feeling himself slipping into depression. 'You're pathetic, Moony,' he thought to himself bitterly. 'Nobody will miss you when you're gone.'

He put his head into his hands - a monster's hands - feeling hopelessly alone. 


	3. Alone

III: Alone.

The sound of footsteps in the hall startled Remus, and he shot to his feet, simultaneously whipping his wand out of his pocket and aiming it towards the door. But as Tonks stepped into the doorway, he let out a sigh of relief, his wand aim lowering. Tonks stared at his wand for a moment, a look of shock on her face, and then met Remus' eyes and put a smile on her face. "Wotcher, Remus," she said cheerfully, though Remus could see the shadow behind her eyes. He lowered his wand completely and tried to smile. "Hello, Tonks. For someone who is normally clumsy you snuck up on me."

"Well, I didn't want to wake the portrait of Old Bag Black, did I?" Tonks said with a grin, walking into the room and heading to the couch. She sat down , ignoring Remus' hesitation.

'Why can't she just leave me alone?' He was thinking to himself, his heart still in his stomach, that shroud still all about him. She was looking at him oddly now, and rather stiffly he sat down next to her before she could ask whatever the matter was with him. He didn't feel like explaining himself to her, explaining the reasons why he held a wall around his heart, so that sometimes he couldn't breathe, so that he could never allow himself to be close to anyone.

"Had a rough day, have we?" The girl next to him said, and he flicked his eyes up to her's momentarily, quickly returning to staring at his hands, folded in his lap. Her hand brushed up his arm and rested on his shoulder. He supressed a shiver. "Me, too," she said companionably, and her hand slipped away, as she drew her feet up onto the couch. Another shiver passed over him, and he found himself mimicking her, wrapping his arms about his knees.

-

"Wotcher, Remus!"

Remus startled, very nearly spilling his tea all over himself. He looked up at the young girl in front of him. "Tonks!"

"Scared you, did I?" She asked, sitting down across the table from him with a grin. She pointed her wand to a tea cup on the the counter and said, "Accio tea cup!" Remus watched apprehensively as the china sailed through the air quite near his arm and landed in front of Tonks. He sighed with relief. She grinned and said now, "Accio kettle!"

The kettle, full of hot tea, wallowed through the air as though on a choppy sea, drips of liquid sloshing out of the spout and onto the floor. Remus swallowed thickly and pushed his chair back. Too late, as some tea sloshed, unpleasantly hot, onto his leg, quickly seeping through the fabric of his robes, the heat spreading. He tried not to cry out, giving Tonks a pained look. She jumped up, the kettle landing suddenly on the table with a loud 'thump'.

"Oh, sorry! Here, let me - oops! I'm really sorry about this, Remus, just move your hands and let me -"

"Oh, no, no, that's quite alright Tonks, please, let me." Remus was insisting, holding the hot tea soaked robes away from his body and fumbling for his wand.

"No, I insist. Just - move your hand, Remus! Let me!" She snatched his hand away and said firmly, "Scourgify!"

Remus felt an unpleasant sensation on his leg. There was a large hole in his robes where the tea stain had been, and beneath it, his skin was red and very sore. It felt as though it had been scrubbed with steel wool. Essentially, it had been. "Oh," Tonks said, her face turning red. "Er, sorry about that."

"Not at all," Remus said smoothly, taking his wand out calmly and pointing to his skin. He muttered a healing charm, and the red scratchs on his skin knitted together and disappeared. He looked helplessly at his robe, now with its hole at mid-thigh height, and raised an eyebrow at Tonks. "Another patch for these robes, I think." He said with a wry smile. Tonks put a hand over her mouth, the roots of her hair turning red now. "I'm so sorry. Really, very sorry."

"Don't mention it." Remus replied vaguely. Then he looked at her quite seriously. "Really, please don't. I don't know what Molly would say if she knew you were ripping my robes in the kitchen when anybody could walk in on us." Despite herself, Tonks snorted once, before giving up on stifling her laughter, and giggling openly. The corners of Remus' mouth tugged up into a smile, before mentioning something about changing, and leaving the room. 


	4. Changes

IV: Changes.

"Wotcher, Remus!"

Remus looked over to see Tonks carrying a large box. She had long blonde hair and emerald coloured eyes today. "Hello, Tonks," he said, putting down his book and tucking his hands away in the sleeves of his robes. "What are you carrying that box for?"

"Halloween's coming up, and I scabbed all these feathers from the cook at the Three Broomsticks for my costume for the Ministry party. I'm going as an angel," Tonks said proudly, coming into the room.

"Er, you might want to mind that -" Remus had begun, but too late - Tonks tripped over the telescope stand that was lying dissembled along the floor, and the open box spilled feathers into the open air.

"Oh, ouch!" Tonks cried from her new position on the floor. Remus brushed some feathers from his lap with a sigh, and stood. "Alright there?" He asked as he bent to help the young witch from the floor.

"Nothing hurt but my pride, as always," Tonks said cheerfully, brushing some feathers from the backs of her legs. She suddenly grinned at Remus. He found himself smiling back. "What is it?"

"You've got a feather, right here." She reached over and ran a hand over and partially through Remus' hair. He couldn't help but shiver, and his smile faltered. "Uhm. Thank you." He looked around the room, and his smile returned. "I'll clean this up for you, shall I?"

-

"Wotcher, Remus!"

The wizard quickly finished placing charms on the various cooking instruments to ensure they would all stir, beat, or turn the different foods properly, before looking over to a blue-haired Tonks. As he opened his mouth to greet the Auror, though, she somehow managed to walk into the edge of the large kitchen table, then in her efforts to get away from it stumble into a chair and knock it over, following it to the ground. "Damn!" She said, as Remus snorted with laughter and stepped over to help her up. "I cracked the backrest," she said, pointing as she held onto his arm and stood. "Bloody hell, I can never do anything right."

"That's alright," Remus said, patting her arm quite nervously and stepping away enough for her arm to drop. "It's easy enough to fix." He raised his wand, and, "Reparo!"

"I could've done that, you know," Tonks said, rather sulkily.  
Remus looked at her, and couldn't help pulling a face. Tonks' pouting lips pulled upwards at the edges, but she looked away, while Remus felt utterly stupid and childish for making a face in the first place.

-

"Wotcher, Remus!"

Remus wasn't brave enough to look up. He had heard the swishing and squelching of something that Tonks was undoubtably about to make a mess of. "Uh, hello, Tonks," he said, unconsciously gripping his quill tighter.

Sure enough, a second later he heard her trip into something - possibly the base of that stupid statue Kingsley had put in the sitting room for some reason - and he felt the wet liquid - whatever it was - on the back of his robes. He sighed, put down his quill, and got up to help.

-

"Wotcher, Remus!"

Remus groaned, and put a hand to his forehead. 


	5. The Full Moon

V: The Full Moon.

A loud 'pop' sounded through the otherwise quiet air, as Nymphadora Tonks Apparated out of nowhere.

She was running late. Snape would kill her. Dumbledore would kill her. Remus would quite possibly and honestly kill her - or worse - if she didn't hurry up. The sky was just about dark, and the moon... she looked to the horizon as she hurried across the Hogwarts grounds. It hadn't risen yet, thank the gods. She picked up her pace towards the Whomping Willow, very carefully covering the pocket which held a very important potion within. She guessed she still had five minutes. 'Please, don't let me fall over and hurt myself, or break this damn vial. Please, don't let me get bludgeoned into oblivion by the Willow. Please, don't let me be late.'

She almost wished that Snape was available to deliver this potion, but seeing as he was away on an important mission, Dumbledore had asked her to go in his stead. 'Almost,' she thought, filled with near overwhelming curiosity with regards to her friend's condition. But more than the curiosity she had always held for Remus, now that they had become close, she worried for him. She knew the torment he would go through if she didn't get the Wolfsbane to him. She didn't want that to be her fault.

There was the Whomping Willow. Summoning her nerve, she stepped closer and pointed her wand, yelling "Immobulus!" This slowed the Willow considerably, allowing her to sneak in close and prod a knot in one of the roots hard with her fingers. The tree froze completely, and, relieved, Tonks slipped down through the hole in the ground near the knot, and dropped down to the underground passageway. It was much darker down here. "Lumos," she whispered, not entirely sure why she felt she had to be quiet. With only a moment's hesitation, she hurried off down the passageway towards the Shrieking Shack.

Outside, the moon peeked its silver head over the horizon.

-

Finally Tonks, running now, reached the Shrieking Shack. After whispering "nox," to put out the light from her wand, she hurried up the stairs, calling for Remus. She came to a bedroom, occupied by a large, dusty and somewhat damaged four poster, the drapings ripped to dirty streamers. A figure lay on the bed, trying to prop itself up, looking at her. "Wotcher," Tonks whispered with a grin, relieved she wasn't too late for her friend.

"Tonks," Remus whispered, and she thought she saw horror in his eyes. "You're late."

"I know, I know," she said, hurrying into the room, reaching into her pocket. She ignored Remus, who was weakly moaning 'no, no, get out,' and instead tried to say lightly, "you look like you've been run over a couple of times, Lupin." In fact, how terrible her friend looked was horrifying. "No, Tonks, no. Get out. Get out." Remus was moaning weakly, vaguely thrashing about on the bed in his efforts to wave her out of the room. "You're too late."

Tonks stopped. "What do you mean I'm too late? I have the Wolfsbane right here, and..." she trailed off, suddenly realising her shadow across the bed and along the wall. Remus' body had gone rigid, and he was shaking. "Oh, gods," she whispered, whirling about to see the moon through the window. She turned back to Remus. "I'm too late." The vial of Wolfsbane dropped from nerveless fingers, the glass shattering on the floor.

"Get out." Remus growled through clenched teeth. Tonks hesitated. "NOW!" Remus roared, clutching at his head. Tonks saw fur growing along the back of his hands. She gave a slight scream of horror, and fled from the room.

She had just reached the bottom of the stairs when a loud howl from upstairs turned her blood cold. She ran without reserve now, trying to get out of the house, back through the passage, terrified of that howl. The howl of a beast. She knew that there was nothing of her friend left tonight, and that the wolf would kill her if given the chance.

The floorboards were uneven, and she tripped when she reached the cellar again, cursing her constant clumsiness. She could hear the wolf, upstairs still, ripping things, smashing. 'It can smell me,' she thought, frozen with fear. 'It can smell a human, and it wants to kill me.' She forced herself to get to her feet, as another howl sounded from upstairs. She could hear the stairs creaking in rapid succession.

The wolf was coming for her.

She ran blindly in the dark passage. Her mind was screaming at her not to fall, or she would die, or worse. That the wolf would bite her, rip her to pieces, and Remus would be locked away, sent to Azkaban, and then who would look after Harry? Remus held it so high that now he was the last of his friends he would protect Harry - what would happen to the boy if Remus killed her, if he bit her, ripped her to pieces, if he got himself locked away? Wildly she thought of Sirius' death so soon after his escape from Azkaban, poor Remus, how Sirius got out from the prison by slipping past the guards in his animagus form...

She stopped in shock, though some part of her mind screamed at her not to pause. That was it! She could change herself, she wasn't an animagus but she WAS a metamorphmagus. She might not be able to become a full animal, harmless to a werewolf, but it might be enough to stop the wolf from wanting to...

She shook her head. She needed to think clearly now - surely the wolf was in the passage by now, coming after her. She screwed her eyes closed and her nose wrinkled. And she thought hard about what the wolf might look like. Long snout, hair everywhere, tall, hunched shoulders, a huge spine, a tail...

She held back a scream as her mind whitened with the pain that overcame her. It was excrutiating, and she almost stopped the transformation. But she had to do it or Remus would kill her, so she forced herself to keep going. The changes in her body were so painful she thought she might pass out, but somehow she held on, swaying on her feet.

It was done. She skulked back to the Shrieking Shack's cellar, checking for a window. When the wolf came, she was ready for him.

She could see he was confused - she smelt like a human but also like an animal. He growled at her, territorial and dominating, and in a panic Tonks, in her new form which was a horrible parody of the werewolf in front of her, ran at the wolf and knocked him to the ground. Both struggled furiously, the wolf to get up and attack, furious that this female beast was challenging him, Tonks to keep the wolf at bay and unable to hurt anybody, including herself.

It went on for hours. Finally though, the wolf collapsed beneath Tonks, not giving up and admitting defeat, but rather too exhausted to do anything more about it. His breath came out in short pants, his eyes gradually closing...

Tonks was exhausted, too, but she wouldn't allow herself to sleep. The hours until dawn were going to stretch out endlessly, she knew, but if the wolf woke up she had to be ready for it. She didn't move, thinking it best to keep the wolf beneath her so she could pin him down if he did wake. She rested her wolf-like head down on the male's chest, so tired, and waited. 


	6. Weak

VI: Weak.

The morning dawned in the Shrieking Shack, the light filtering through the window making the cellar grey and dull. The air was cool and refreshing, and Remus fluttered to consciousness, and instantly groaned.

He hurt all over. It felt as though there was a huge weight in his chest - that was something he didn't normally feel. He wondered what the wolf did to cause so much pain. It was worse than the shrouding feeling that would press down upon him, brought upon by thoughts of his... problem. Besides the pressing feeling, his arms and legs ached and his tail-bone was sore - something that usually happened, due to his bones and muscles suddenly lengthening, only to shorten again hours later. The ground was hard and unyielding along his back - his hips were digging uncomfortably into it. He tentatively cracked his eyes open. 'Ah, the cellar,' he thought, understanding the hardness of the floor now. He thought about getting up or at least trying to find something more comfortable for his hips, but frankly he was too exhausted to move. He was so exhausted he could barely think about moving. He closed his eyes again, hoping to fall back to sleep.

Yet he couldn't - there was something not quite right. He couldn't quite place his finger on it. It was a scent. While his sense of smell was not as strong as the wolf's, it was remarkably more so than that of an ordinary human. Whatever he could smell now was certainly something not usually present in the Shrieking Shack. It smelt like lavender and sweat, and woman.

Remus' eyes flew open. He thought wildly, 'like a woman? Why would there be a woman smell in the Shrieking Shack?' In the next moment, his heart sunk low into his stomach. He could vaguely remember Tonks coming to bring him the Wolfsbane potion. He remembered yelling at her to go, her body silhouetted in front of the moon. Her scream as his skin prickled and sprouted fur... he only hoped it was all a nightmare, but that scent in the air made his blood run cold.

He lay on the cool, hard floor of the cellar, desperately trying to remember the night's events. His mind spun uncontrollably, conjuring images of Tonks' bleeding and broken body in front of him. He didn't know if they were real or not, but he was beginning to panic. And he was all alone. Snape wouldn't be coming to check on him. Tonks was meant to do that duty this month, but if he had done the unthinkable then he was on his own until the Ministry came to take him away.

He felt sick in the stomach. He could even feel that terrible weight atop his chest moving about now. It was a horrid feeling, that shroud, he thought he might have his heart crushed by it. At least then he would be put out of his misery.

He looked down at his chest, nearly expecting to see his body caving in, being crushed, by some invisible force. What he did see, however, made his heart stop.

She was there. Lying over him. He didn't know if she was asleep or dead, so he focused his eyes on her back.

He let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding - she was alive. Just sleeping. What was she doing here? And why was she so close to him? 'Closer than close, Moony,' he thought to himself. It had been so long since... he closed his eyes. Since a woman had been anywhere near him, let alone lying on top of him like it was so normal and natural. 'And I'm neither normal, nor natural,' Remus thought bitterly. But still, now that he knew she was there, he could hear, feel, her breathing, that lavender smell was her's, and definitely the smell that is unique to women. His nose twitched and, despite himself, something else did, too. He opened his eyes and looked down at her again.

Her hair was white, though he seemed to remember it being pink the night before when she came to give him his potion. He could see her nose, but not much else of her face. That weight on his chest he thought might crush him was now pleasant and warm. And her smell... it was driving him mad. He hadn't had thoughts or feelings like this for so long...

'Get a grip, Moony, old boy!' he told himself sternly. 'There's a perfectly ordinary reason why this young witch is lying on top of you, and it has nothing to do with any sort of attraction.' But for the life of him, he couldn't control his body, and it was making life difficult. He reached up and took the witch by the shoulders, shaking her gently. "Tonks?" His voice croaked. He winced, cleared his throat, and tried again. "Tonks?"

The young witch moaned and began to stir. Then she looked up at Remus, her eyes open. "Remus?" She whispered. The look on her face shocked the wizard - she looked almost frightened. Yet why wouldn't she be, after what she saw last night? Remus closed his eyes in horror - he would lose another friend, he knew it was too good to be real, he should never have allowed himself to get close to her... "Oh, Remus!" Tonks said, and flung her arms about his neck in a hug. "I was so scared," she whispered by his ear. "So scared... are you alright?"

Her breath across his ear and neck raised his skin in goosebumps, and he wrapped his arms around her body. "Yes," he whispered, nudging his face into her hair and neck, inhaling deeply. He found himself rubbing his hands up and down her back, smelling her hair again and sighing deeply. His heart had begun to race, thumping heavily against his rib cage. He was sure she must feel it. Rubbing her back harder now, pressing her body closer to his, his breathing becoming ragged. And Tonks, shivering slightly, pulling up to look at his face. She stared into his eyes long and hard, as though searching for something. Remus felt the wolf stir within him, telling him this was good, this woman. He swallowed thickly as he mentally pushed the wolf back.

Tonks smiled slightly. "You're you again," she said, reaching up to touch the side of his face. "Last night I thought you were going to... to hurt me." Remus started at this, panicking as to what happened during the night, but Tonks was smiling, tears in her eyes. "You're you again," she repeated, and to his surprise and the wolf's pleasure she lent down to kiss him.

His mind exploded as her lips nudged gently at his, almost nervously at first, but as he responded she became more confident, pushing his mouth open and snaking her tongue in slowly. His body tingled, his grip around her tightening, parts of him coming alive from her mere presence. The wolf was inside him, practically doing back flips, pushing himself to the fore of Remus' mind, demanding the human give in to him so he could mate with the female. Remus pushed him away, but it was no good - the wolf was still strong so soon after the full moon, and Remus' hands clawed inwards, raking against the witch's back. Tonks inhaled sharply in surprise, and for a moment Remus thought he had scared her away. But then she kissed him much more forcefully and the wolf howled happily, arrogating Remus' mind, causing the man's body to moan and pull Tonks closer to himself. But Remus used all his strength to push the wolf back, and Tonks, too. He gasped for air. "No, stop," he panted, horrified at himself.

"What is it? What's wrong?" Tonks asked, touching is face.

Remus grabbed her hand and pushed it away. "Please, Tonks, stop, this isn't right, we can't do this." Tonks stared at him silently, a look of hurt creeping over her face. "Move, Tonks!" Remus snapped desperately, struggling with the wolf inside him. "I'm a monster, Tonks, don't you understand! The wolf would take you over completely!" He almost added, 'He's taken over me!', but choked the words back, holding Tonks away by her wrists so she couldn't come closer to him. He felt weak, dirty, and tears pricked his eyes. How could he have allowed this to happen? He vowed that he would never allow a woman to hurt herself by getting close to him. He was so selfish!

"Get out, Tonks, you shouldn't be here. You shouldn't be near me. I'm a monster."

"Remus, I don't think you -"

"JUST GO!" He pushed roughly with his arms and released her wrists so she fell on her behind a couple of feet away from him. She stood up slowly, obviously drawing her dignity.

"I'm sorry I was late last night." She said quietly, and walked calmly to the entrance of the underground passageway. But when she out of sight, he could hear her footsteps break into a run.

Remus stared at the hands he had used to push her away with. He felt disgusted. He didn't want to hurt Tonks, but irrevocably he had. He had allowed her to get very near to pulling his wall down, something that should never have happened. He should never have allowed himself to get so close to her, as his friend and through what had just happened. But it was better now, he had most likely scared her off forever, and once again he was all alone.

All alone, and nobody would miss him when he was gone. 


	7. Memories

VII: Memories

He was alone in his bed in the darkness. Exhausted, Molly had sent him to bed with a sleeping potion after a cup of tea.

The sleeping potion sat unopened on the desk, his folded clothes hung neatly over the chair. The blankets were dragged severely up to his chin, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. He couldn't believe how stupid he had been, what he had allowed to happen between he and Tonks. He should have learnt by now. As if the last woman wasn't enough of a bitter lesson.

As if she wasn't the mallet that hammered that last brick into the mortar of the wall around his heart.

-

Remus had been all alone for the first time in his life. James and Lily were taken from him. Sirius was in prison. Peter, the world believed dead. He had given up hope on life. But he met a woman in the bar he frequented. She showed him that drinking himself dead was no good. She showed him how to laugh again. She showed him how to forget.

But he could not forget always, not entirely.

Always he longed for one more kiss, to allow himself to let her touch linger. Yet she did not know what he was, and he felt like a scared little boy again, keeping a dirty secret from his friend, fearing rejection if she knew. So when she reached for the clasp of his robes, he would push her away. When he reached to run his fingers through her hair, he would push her away. And finally, he had pushed too far, to the point where he had no choice but to explain himself, or lose her.

He thought he would have lost her because of the truth. But she had stared at him, tears in her eyes, sliding down her cheeks, her body sliding down the wall of his apartment. He turned away from her, went to the bathroom, not wanting to watch her leave him. Instead, he watched his reflection in the mirror - watched his hands grip the basin, the knuckles white. Almost, he thought he saw the wolf's eyes look out at him, the wolf's claws mark the porcelain. He knew he was a monster, and now she was going to leave, run away, save herself.

When she came to him, and held him without reservation, he almost believed that once more, he knew someone who would accept him for what he was. It was a struggle, yet he knew all relationships were. For weeks, they would laugh together, only for one of them to remember, and the laughter to die away again, leaving behind an awkward silence. Until finally they leaned together in the midst of their uninterrupted laughter, and when it died away it wasn't from remembering that horrible thing, but from wonder at each other.

Now, Remus didn't push her away when she reached for the clasp of his robes. He didn't push her away when he reached for her, only pulling her closer to him, pulling the elastic in her hair, allowing it all to fall around her shoulders. And when they lay down in his bed, trembling, he felt the weeks of uncertainty melt away, and pulled her entire body to him, over, raising his to cover her. And when he whispered her name and nipped, sucked gently at her neck, she pushed him back into the sheets.

And continued to rise. There were tears in her eyes, glistening in the near darkness, and her voice cracked. "Remus. I can't do this." She pulled her robes over her head. "I'm sorry."

And was gone.

-

Alone, Remus Lupin lay in his bed at Grimmauld Place, and cursed himself for the tears that ran down the sides of his face and into his hair and ears. He knew he should be over her, over Lily and James, over Sirius, over poor, stupid Peter, over what he did with Tonks, over everything. And yet it hurt, and in his moment of sickness and weakness and knowing he was quite alone, and most likely always would be, he cried.

When the door creaked open, he started, and guiltily wiped at his eyes. He looked over, seeing Tonks' face illuminated by the light at the tip of her wand. "Remus?" She said softly, standing on the threshold, one hand on the door handle.

"Tonks." Remus said, his traitorous voice cracking. He turned to face the wall, hoping she would take it as a signal to go away. He thought with horror that he was naked under the sheets.

"Have you been... crying?"

"No." He closed his eyes as he heard her come in, closing the door behind her.

"Nox," she whispered, and the light behind Remus' eyelids disappeared. He opened them again, wishing she would just leave him be, that she would stay away from him, the monster.

He felt the covers at his back peeled away from him, and her weight settled in beside him. Tentatively, she put a hand on his arm, a foot on his leg. She was wearing socks beneath her pyjama pants. Remus' whole body was tense. His jaw ached with it. His body was responding in ways he wished it wouldn't. Finally she took her foot away, but her hand stayed. After a time he heard her breathing even out, and thought with horror that she wasn't going to be leaving until morning.

He tried to smother the traitorous thought that told him that was good.

-

He woke up in her arms.

The sun was just starting to send slices of light through the window, and when consciousness first touched him, he felt warm and content. The smell of warmed woman and lavender filled his world, the flannel of her pyjama shirt grazed his lips. The hush of her breathing brushed across his face again and again.

It had been a terribly long time since he had woken up next to a woman.

The wolf snuffled through Remus' nose, lifting his head to nuzzle in at the female's neck. Then he retreated back into Remus, and the man could feel the wolf wrapping his mental tail around himself. Content.

As he woke bit by bit, he realised his leg was covering both of her's, protecting, claiming, and his hand was resting on one of her breasts. She was soft and warm, and beautiful, and purely and simply woman. His body was finding it harder and harder to ignore that fact. His hand, almost of its own will, increased its pressure slightly, then released slowly. Tonks mewled quietly, and shifted in her sleep. Her leg brushed unwittingly against Remus' thighs and groin, and his breath hitched in his throat, his eyes caught on her face. But no, she was asleep. Remus slowly extracted himself from her body, shifting into the cold area of the sheets.

He shouldn't be doing this. She shouldn't be doing this. He couldn't believe what his hand had done, how his leg was over hers, the way other parts of him had reacted. He was acutely aware he was wearing no clothes underneath the sheets. He thought she must have known that when she came to his room last night. 'She doesn't know what she's doing,' he thought to himself, watching her. 'Moony, you fool, you should have sent her away!'

He wriggled further away from her, pressing his body tight against itself, trying to get as much distance between the two of them as he possibly could. He couldn't believe the situation she had put them in - the situation he had allowed himself to enter. Just as he was about to get out of the bed and snag his clothing, the young witch seemed to rouse slightly, rolling towards him and flopping an arm over his body with a sleepy sigh of, "Remus," escaping her throat.

Remus was horrified. His body tensed, he held his breath as he considered what to do. After much panic and self chastising, he began to push her gently onto her back and away from him. But her arm tensed and he found himself unable to stop the both of them rolling. He cursed breathlessly, wondering what to do now. His body continued to betray his thoughts. Tonks yawned beneath him. "Wotcher," she murmured, cracking an eye open.

Remus jumped away from her, nearly falling out of the bed in the process. Tonks opened wide eyes, awake suddenly. "What? What is it? Remus?" This last she said when he didn't reply.

"Tonks..." He said unsteadily. She smiled disarmingly at him and shuffled closer to him. He held his arms away from her as if he couldn't trust them. He indeed felt that he couldn't.

"I hope you don't mind," she drawled, snuggling to his chest. "I'm a bed hog."

Remus took his shaking arms and uncertainly pushed at her. "Please. Tonks. No." He choked, feeling that all too familiar shroud descend over him. He wished she would leave him to his own misery. He wished she had the sense to not try and get involved with a monster. He wished she wouldn't look at him and smile like she did. He wished he never heard her utter the words, "Yes, Remus. Yes." In a slow, husky voice, moving her lips towards his face. He wished...

He pushed again. "Please, Tonks," he begged. "If you kiss me," he took a deep, shuddering breath, "I won't be able to stop. And we will both be thrown into Azkaban." He was shaking, fighting back tears. He wouldn't cry in front of her.

"Remus," her voice soothed, her fingertips coming to his face. "It's alright. It will be alright. I... love you, Remus." His eyes shuddered closed, the shroud squeezed his chest. His walls contained his heart. 'No,' he thought. 'No.' But Tonks held him closer, murmuring in his ear, "It will be alright."

'No,' he kept thinking. He couldn't breathe. 'No.' And then, "No, Tonks." He pushed her away, firmly, holding her back by her shoulders. His eyes skated away from her's - looking anywhere but at her.

For an eternity it didn't seem she was breathing. Then, in one deep shuddering intake of air, she set her chin firmly and rose from the bed. "I see." Her voice wobbled, and she fled from his room.

Remus was left staring at his hands, a monster's hands, knowing she did not see at all, and that no one ever would. 


	8. The Frost

VIII: The Frost. 

Slowly, I am dying. I am like a wilting flower, collapsing, drawing into myself. Like that flower, people cast me aside with almost no thought. Oh, they might remember how beautiful the flower once was, but have no room in their life for something dead and cold, brittle. No room in their life for one such as me. One who has built a wall around their heart.

The wall has made me cold. I lock away my feelings, refusing to let myself recognise any hopes of friendship, and love. In the mornings, I look out my window to see the frost that has burnt the plants in the overrun garden, and feel as though the frost has burnt my heart to numbness. I feel almost as though I am the frost in the deepest hour of the night, burning those who call me 'friend', keeping them always apart from me, always an arm's length away, always looking elsewhere when they smile.

Almost, I cannot remember what it felt like to be a boy, running through the halls at Hogwarts with his friends, the wolf running through the forest with his companions. The boy who could forget and be accepted is gone. It saddens me, the way I am. Stripped of my friends, stripped of my freedom, I know that I can never be accepted. I can never be normal. The only thing left is the sour shell of a man, ever cynical and without hope.

And always, always untouchable.


End file.
